This has been a weird season for me. And by weird I mean really, really hard. To be honest it’s odd mourning someone you never got to meet. I thought by the third time I would be more on top of this whole grieving thing, able to go through it and get it over with. Silly me, grief doesn’t work that way.

Now that we’ve been pregnant and had Corrie, the reality of what could have been cuts deeper than before. I take comfort in the fact that our baby’s days were numbered in God’s book before one of them came to be, but the reality of saying goodbye is still just as painful in this sin-filled world.

Unless you’ve experienced miscarriage (and I pray you haven’t and never will) it’s hard to explain. I feel like I’m starting to come out of the fog that is despair and balancing hormones. Asking for help is one of the things I am worst at, and God has taught me and continues to teach me that is where fellowship thrives. While I’d much rather be on the receiving end of the ask, the community we’ve built and that have walked beside us these last few years have been worth the hard, embarrassing, and sometimes awkward conversations I’ve had to start.

That’s just one place I’ve seen God in all of this. While I’m mad and I know that even though we live in a fallen world, God could have granted us new life – we could have three children with another on the way – I also know that He works through the difficult things to bring glory to Himself and good to those who love Him. The paradox of that is hard for me. And I’ll never understand why He’s allowed these things to happen. But getting caught in that trap is an endless cycle that I fear I’d never get out of. Looking for God’s presence in the midst of this has been a way to keep my head above water and understand that moving forward is ok. It’s good. He’ll be there holding my hand. Because there has been so much good over these last few years, and I know we’ll be able to look back someday and – while our hearts will always be broken and we’ll always be missing three pieces of ourselves – we’ll be able to say He was good. Because God is faithful, always. That doesn’t negate from the hurt, but it helps this shattered heart know He’s sowing seeds in the cracks.

I’ve hesitated in sharing these feelings, believing the lies that have been whispered in my ear of “Nobody cares, you’re not worth it, suffer in silence” but I’m reminded again and again that His power is made perfect in my weakness, and I’m to boast of my weakness so that He can be glorified. If I can help one person or relate to another walking this path or somehow shine a light in the darkness, isn’t that the very purpose for which we were put here? If I’m quiet in my despair and only talk about the good things and “blessings,” that does no good for those who are here in the valley with me.

Moving forward

There’s such an intricate mix of hope in God’s goodness and the knowledge that we still live in a very much fallen and depraved world. As we move forward, I find myself letting that darkness overshadow the hope and asking myself, “What if it happens again? What if I can’t get pregnant? What if?” But I’m reminded the worst case scenario has happened, and God has been faithful. This brings the hope back into focus.

As hard as it is to move forward in hopes of having another child this side of Home, I don’t believe our heart’s desires are given randomly. God has a plan and while I can’t see what that plan is and while it nearly kills me to ponder all the what if’s, I know He’s faithful and He’ll carry us through this next season – whatever that may look like.